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Getting gray hair almost always indicates advancing age. Usually this is a gradual process–as formerly lush, lustrous curls lose their bounce and become thin and faded, there is often a look of regret, perhaps of nostalgia, for the ‘crowning glory’, which by the time you’re in your 4th or 5th decade, starts to fritter away. What used to be carefully all gelled, or moussed over, tossed about carelessly is now carefully dyed, pondered over every morning, or covered with a cap.
Gray hair on one’s head is one thing, but little can be done to alleviate the shock of finding out that yes, you do get gray down there. And it really seems to sprout overnight: one day its not there, the next morning, just as you look down, a single strand stands out, like an albino pup in a litter of black labradors. Sometimes you can get an early warning sign. A stray strand on your moustache, for example. But seeing it on the pubes is something else.
Indeed, one stray hair that looks different from the others especially down there where the sun don’t shine can upset some. I have friends who started shaving their pubic areas soon after, or who very demurely decided to wear swimsuts even on naked nights in saunas.
But, there is a more practical solution. Pretend its not there. Wear it as a badge of honor. Or like i did, pluck it out, blowing kisses as you go…
Prepare early, keep you eyes on the ball, swing and follow through. Reduce unforced errors. Stay alert for two hours. These are the things I tell myself on the way to the courts, in no particular order. And as I stretch and warm up. It’s a wonder I get the ball across, given all these self-reminders. I guess muscle memory helps – all those hours of hitting the ball with ‘marks’.
I’m very fond of tennis and I’m enjoying playing while I still can. My strenuous days are numbered, as I will inevitably slow down. I will no longer be able to chase or hit the ball with as much force as I like. There’s already the occasional twinge in my right knee.
Anyway, today I played very well – everything came together in the doubles: never losing sight of the ball and the rest of the drill. I made forehand winners on the run several times; my backhand topspin actually worked, scoring a couple of winners too. My volleying was also good. Overall, only a few errors. Bragging? Slight but it is just so totally satisfying. Sa singles, I lost the first set but I was leading in the second when we stopped. It feels so great I’d like to play again tomorrow although I doubt I’d play as well.
In the brief times that balls were being handed over to the server, I was looking at the shirtless athletes parading and momentarily stopping to watch the ongoing tennis games – outstanding eye candy in the early morning. Several had kroma around their waists. In the next court, there was a thirty something Chinito daddy.
And it wasn’t hot., the weather I mean. Perfect playing conditions. A first-rate beginning for a Thursday.
Pero before that, land trip muna. Because I’m going via Saigon. I’ll take the bus with a friend who said he’ll help lug my things all the way to the airport. Cheap kasi from there dahil sa Cebu Pacific budget airline.
Henyway, I’d like to show you around before I leave. Heto ang neighbors. The picture on the left has visitors that come irregularly - container vans that arrive only at night. The place is owned by a military guy, so no chance of finding out I suppose. The other is typical of the boring buildings that are springing up unchecked all over town.
Neighbor din. That mango tree in front used to be so tall, verdant, luxuriant. They’ve literally cut it down to size. I would have thought a shady place woud be more attractive especially in this clime. Food was good when the place was newly opened. Now it’s just unremarkable. I think the only consistent thing there is the looong wait for the food. Nightly this over decorated kitschy restaurant plays local music as loud as they can with little consideration for neighbors. Popular with locals. Don’t bother going
To my right e on-going construction of 4 neighboring houses that started like a year and half ago or maybe even two years ago. One ends, another begins. Non-stop noises of destruction: hammering, drilling, pounding, digging, falling objects, etc. Super noisy from daybreak to day’s end.
These are the drivers that suffer my presence on their motorbikes when I ask them to bring me to meetings, supermarkets atbp. Hardly any of them follow traffic rules and regulations. But they’re kind enough, and follow what they’re told.
Nga pala heto ang Prisoner of Zenda ehe prisoner of psaa kapko pala. A virgin but never in blue. Kasama ko sa bahay since 2003 but leaving me soon. Feeling ko bading pero ayaw umamin
I like this place pero dumating na ang seven year itch ni Marilyn M
Sa wakas!
It’s taken awhile to get started – blame it on the fits and starts generated by work, laziness, and reluctance to take the first plunge, among other things. Anyway, here we are. Step into the world of the mature gay men, particularly of Victa and Dora. Learn more about them in future posts.
Before we start our merry journey -
This stands as an invitation to other mature gay men to contribute. But a word to the wise: we’ll decide on what gets posted. No worries, we’re not very censorious. We just want contributions that are not discriminatory, racist, violations of human rights, insulting, or loaded with negative agenda. Send it to victadora@yahoo.com or give us feedback through comments.
Wellkomen. Bienvenue. Welcome
